


I See Fire

by theychosefamily67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Burns, Fire, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theychosefamily67/pseuds/theychosefamily67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hey, can you do a story where there's a fire in the bunker somehow and Dean has to save Sam from yet another fire because he gets trapped or he passes out from smoke inhalation? Hurt/comfort with lots of brotherly love? Pretty please with cherries :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See Fire

Dean had only been gone a few hours. He had gone to the local bar, had a few drinks, flirted with the girls playing pool, and then come home. How had everything gone so wrong in just a few hours?

Dean pulled up in front of the bunker and opened the door to the Impala, standing and cracking his back. He rubbed his face, shut the door to the car, and started walking towards the bunker. Suddenly he stopped and sniffed the air, who was burning trash this late at night? He shook his head at irresponsible people, opened the door to the bunker, and stepped into a nightmare. Thick black smoke poured out and the alarms were so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. He fell back, choking on the smoke, his eyes watering so bad he couldn’t see. Sam! Where was Sam?! He pulled the bandana out of his back pocket and tied it around his mouth and nose. He got as low to the ground as he could and crawled into the bunker.

“Sam!” he yelled, and immediately started coughing. “Sam!!” he yelled again, his throat already burning. There was no answer. Oh God. Dean tried not to think the worst and crawled down the stairs. The smoke wasn’t as thick at the bottom of the stairs so he stood and ran through the bunker, yelling Sam’s name. He almost slipped and fell on his ass, the floor was wet from the sprinklers fighting to kill the fire. He finally found the source of the fire, the computer room, the whole room was ablaze. 

“Sam!” he yelled and then he heard it, weakly. “Dean.”

He peered into the flames and saw Sam, on the floor, a bookshelf on top of him, on fire. He ran to Sam and grabbed the part of the bookshelf that wasn’t in flames, immediately burning his hands.

“Hold on Sam, I got you!” Sam looked up at him, his face black with soot, his eyes barely open. He was choking and coughing and there was blood on his face.

Dean felt his muscles protest at the effort it took to lift the bookshelf and shove it to the side. He grabbed Sam and dragged him out from under the bookshelf, Sam’s screams echoing on the bunker walls.

“Come on Sam, we gotta get out of here,” Dean coughed and put his arm under his brother to try and help him stand.

“My leg, I think it’s broken,” Sam wheezed.

“Shit. I can’t lift you, you gotta help me man, this place is coming down around us.”

Sam nodded, set his face and said, “Ok, ready.”

Dean lifted and Sam tried to put all his weight on one leg but even moving his broken leg almost made him pass out from the pain.

“You with me?” Dean asked. Sam’s eyes were glassy and not focusing and he was going back down. “Sam!” Dean shook him a little to snap him out of it. 

Sam shook his head, “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Let’s go,” he grit his teeth as Dean acted like a human crutch and they hobbled out of the computer room. The smoke was getting thicker and it was hard to see. 

Somehow they made it up the stairs, it was an extremely slow process, but they made it. As they stepped outside Sam couldn’t take any more. “Dean, I’m gonna be sick,” Dean held onto him as he leaned over and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the ground. He tasted fire in the back of his throat and his leg throbbed so bad he felt like he was going to pass out again. 

Dean kept his arm around him and patted his back, “You all right to make it to the car little brother?” he asked gently. Sam nodded and they made it the last few steps to the car. He gently lowered Sam into the backseat and then went around the opposite side of the car and slid him inside as gently as he could but Sam still cried out as his broken bones ground against each other. He was wet and shivering so Dean pulled a blanket out of the trunk and laid it on top of him.

“All right, let’s get you to the hospital,” he coughed, spit out black soot, and shut the back door.

At the hospital they were given oxygen, their burns were treated, and Sam’s leg had been put in a cast. As Dean wheeled him out the front door he realized, where were they going to go? The bunker was in shambles. You couldn’t exactly call the Insurance company and replace all the things they had lost. So they checked into a hotel. Sam sat on the bed, his leg propped up on a few pillows, while Dean went and got them some food. 

“So what the hell happened man?” Dean asked as they ate their burgers.

“It was the strangest thing. I was in the computer room and suddenly the lights started flickering. I started to leave to get the salt and the bookshelf collapsed on top of me. Next thing I know the computer panel sparks and the whole room was on fire.”

“Vengeful spirit?” Dean guessed.

“I guess so. But who?”

“We’ll have to figure that out once that place airs out.”

“Do you think the sprinklers will be able to put out the fire?”

“Yeah, I think the Men of Letters learned their lesson from the last time they dealt with Abaddon. They made the bunker indestructible.”

“It’s a good thing you got back when you did. Half an hour more and I would have been done for.”

“Yeah,” Dean stopped, taking a drink of his soda, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’m gonna go wash up, you good?”

“Yeah man, I’m good,” Sam smiled, apparently the pain pills were kicking in.

“All right, I’ll be out in a little while, don’t run any marathons while I’m gone,” Dean chuckled.

Dean shut the bathroom door and looked at himself in the mirror. His hands started shaking as all the events of the day finally came crashing down. He ran cold water in the sink and splashed his face, the burns on his hands stinging under the bandages. He could still smell the smoke on his clothes and it made all the memories of that other horrible night flood in, Mom burning on the ceiling, Dad handing him Sammy and telling him to run. He sat on the toilet with his head in his hands, shaking and trying to calm down. 

“Pull it together Dean,” he admonished himself. He got in the shower and stood under the running water, washing the smell of smoke down the drain, but not the horror of that night, no, that was stuck with him forever. 

He walked out of the bathroom to find Sam snoring with his chin on his chest, TV blaring some old Western. He turned off the TV, helped Sam lay down in the bed, and laid down on his bed. Before he turned off the light he looked at his little brother, smiled and said, “Good night Sam.”


End file.
